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Tobias BernstorffJust by decorating the space, I can already perceive a small influence of my mother here. I think exaggeration is a feature of my whole family. The place looks wonderful, with bright lights decorating the pilasters and square boxes displaying the jewels.High tables with small pots of begonias are distributed throughout the room. There are people from various areas of the city and the country, and had no idea that the exhibition would be so great. I thought it was an event organized by the university for a select group, but I clearly see my mother’s influence here. “Bernstorf family, welcome” a tall man, wearing a black suit with sparkles, welcomes us. “Thank you, dear. How is everything here?” asks my Mrs. Bernstorff.Astrid walks around the place, looking at the exposed jewels with sparkling eyes. I’m very proud of her, it’s been a long time sinc
Nihara VittiLast night was humiliating for me, even though I gave that journalist a good answer. I do not like to know that my efforts and work have been called into question, I would never accept such an exchange of favors. I’ll have to talk to Amber again, this time I won’t be so nice.My sister wouldn’t listen to me, she knows I’m not much for explaining my decisions, so she should consider it and listen to me. But it’s okay, when she wants to talk, I’ll be here to explain myself. I sit in front of the computer still in my room and answer some work messages, some are from custom requests and other congratulations and partnership invitation. My gaze fixed on the e-mail that I could not read because Tobias had entered my room as if he were the owner. Smiling. I click on the e-mail and read: December 21, 14:15 DE: niltorres@gmail.com TO: niharavitti16@gmail.com SUBJECT: Please forgive me Hi, Nihara, how are you?I swear it wasn’t planned. Months after his t
On the afternoon of November 20, 2021, at 6:10 PM, the gentle rays of the sunset painted a stunning sky. The colors blended harmoniously with the decor in toasted yellow and black tones, Bráulio favorite. The garden surrounding the altar held two impressive trees, their roots intertwined, symbolizing the deep connection about to be celebrated. From the room, I observed the lively activity through the windows as my Aunt Victoria and my mother welcomed the guests with warm smiles. The contagious energy in the air promised memorable moments. "And so, dear, are you ready?" My mom asked minutes later, entering the room with a sparkle in her eyes. She approached me with a smile. "You look like a princess, daughter," she said, stepping back a bit to give me a twirl. "I was thinking about you just now. I'm nervous, afraid I might stumble while walking down the aisle," I spoke, expressing my concern. "Well, that can happen," she said with a restrained smile. "But it's alrigh
From the window of my room, I observe the intense glow of the silver circle, solitary despite being surrounded by bright points. Just like me. Six months have passed since I learned about my ex's betrayal, but the scars on my heart still ache as if no days have gone by.I tried to move on, distract myself with work, friends, hobbies, but nothing seems to pull me out of this state of pain and deep sadness. I catch myself always thinking about him, about the happy memories we shared, and then the pain is sharper when I realize that it was all just a lie.Likewise, I still have nightmares. Furthermore, I dream about him and the other woman, about the humiliation I felt when I discovered everything at the altar in front of more than a hundred people. And even when I'm awake, I still feel a tightness in my chest, as if the world is crumbling around me. I take a pause from writing, look at the moon's glow again, and sigh tiredly. I need to recover, I need to shine again like the moon, r
I finish getting dressed and head downstairs. I stop in the middle of the living room and see Quezia setting the breakfast table, Quelson is watching something on TV, and Mom is in the kitchen. Still visibly nervous, I sit down without uttering a single word to them. "When I'm like this, I prefer to stay silent, so as not to hurt anyone with my words," she stops what she's doing and looks at me with confusion, not understanding my behavior. "And now, what's your problem?" I feel anger surge as her question reaches my ears, which, given what happened a few minutes ago, is both foolish and provocative. I place the fork on the plate with such force that it produces a brief, irritating noise. I stand up and meet her brown eyes with mine, squeezing my eyelids shut for a few seconds before releasing a sigh. "Are you seriously asking me that?" I make an expression of incredulity. "Quezia, Mom, both of you, or rather, all three of you..." I point to my brother, who is sitting in t
Doubts torment me and sleep eludes me. I get out of bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen in a daze. Without thinking, I put the glass of water somewhere, and the sound of breaking glass echoes through the house. Worried, I mentally pray that my mother hasn't heard, but life doesn't always grant our wishes. She appears behind me, scolding, as all mothers do. In silence, we clean up the mess I've made together. In an unexpected gesture, my mother hugs me without saying a word. It's a tight but comforting hug that makes me feel less alone at this moment of imminent farewell. We talk about my departure, and Mrs. Candida advises me with the wisdom that only mothers have. Finally, she holds my hand and blesses me, which makes me feel emotional and grateful. I promise to always keep in touch, and she hugs me again, as if she doesn't want to let me go. Tears run down my cheeks as I say goodbye to my home and my family, certain that nostalgia will be my steadfast companion. I con
Continuation.His comment reminds me of how and why I got to this point, and the promise I made. Once again, I apologize, move away, and return my attention to the book. He seems like he's about to say something, but hesitates, straightens his posture that was previously leaning towards me, and continues watching the movie. In the front row, there's a lady with a baby who seems to be about six months old, and in front of them, a man with an angelic-faced little girl who appears to be around four years old. I believe he's the husband and the girl's father, judging by the way they're looking at the baby. For some reason unknown to the parents, the baby is crying uncontrollably, and they can't seem to calm him down.The woman is desperate, not knowing what to do, and the father tries to calm the little girl who is getting anxious due to her brother. Other passengers are whispering things that I can't hear properly, but I can imagine what it is. I feel sorry for the mother who is not
Tobias Bernstorff I hear the pilot's deep and melodious voice announcing the landing at Berlin airport, and my senses sharpen. I widen my eyes, searching for the woman who sat beside me the entire flight. I glance around, but I don't see anything until I get up and spot a colorful notebook with a butterfly on the cover, presumably a diary. Carefully, I pick it up in my hands, and that's when I see Nihara near the exit of the plane. I try to get her attention, but I'm stopped by the flight attendant, who instructs us to follow the disembarkation order. "Nihara, please," I shout, but her gaze is brief as she continues down without being able to turn back. I wait patiently, and when I finally leave the plane, I scan the airport with my eyes, looking for her in every face. But she seems to have vanished into thin air, leaving me with the anguish of not knowing what to do now. "Tob, what's wrong? Are you okay? What are you looking for?" Harry asks, appearing behind me in confus